Sunday, September 24, 2006
I had a call this morning from my friend who lives in Mississippi. I've known this girl since we were in third grade and I love her dearly. I was delighted to hear from her, albeit I felt a bit guilty for not having called her in so long. Sometimes I'm guilty of sticking my head in the sand; i.e., avoiding possible bad news.
As we talked and caught up on each other's lives over the past few months, I could hear her puffing away. On a cigarette. Don't get me wrong, I have nothing against smoking. I smoke. But -- and here's the big but. She's been in treatment for lung cancer for the past year -- successfully. Right now, she's cancer-free. Which is why I could not believe she's still smoking! Granted, it's hard to quit. No question there. It's damned hard. Lung cancer puts a whole different perspective on it, though. If it were me, and if I were handed an absolute death sentence in the form of a terminal diagnosis, I'd see no reason to quit. I mean, if you're going to die anyway... But if I beat it and found myself cancer-free, there's just no way I'd continue to smoke. I'd see it as a second chance at life, a gift to receive gratefully and not take lightly.
True, I tempt fate all the time. I take a lot of unnecessary risks -- just because I can, I guess. And sometimes I tend to completely snub fate by taking the insouciant (and insolent) attitude of "nothing bad's going to happen to me unless I let it." I think that continuing to smoke after beating lung cancer may be tempting fate just a little too far, though. I wish I could make my friend see that she's not just tempting fate but snubbing it. Big-time. I can lightly chide her, but I can't preach at her. Ultimately, it's her decision. She knows the risks. Gotta tell you, though -- this scares the hell out of me. I do not want to lose her over a habit she can't break free of. Not now, not after everything she's been through. Maybe I should preach at her. Should I?
Deputy Roxan found these Words Gone Bad for us to publicly pillory today.
Coller - Hollering during a telephone conversation.
Corperate fetish atire - God help us. We think this has something to do with costumes worn for necrophiliac activities when tired.
Taylored - An editor who edits authors named Taylor.
Fatener - To be the cause of fate.
Levrage - Rage induced by wearing a particular brand of jeans.
Huseral - This is one of those what-the-fuck words. We have no idea how to define it.
Craped - An editor who edits crap.
Floped - An editor who edits manuscripts that flop (which were handed off to him by the Crap Editor).